A Study in Sherlolly xx
by Baker-Street-Potter-Head
Summary: A series of one-shots exploring various different moments to Sherlock and Molly's relationship. They will not link or be continuous. xx Pure, shameless fun ensues. Suggestions and prompts are greatly welcomed and appreciated. xx
1. Lestrade's Birthday

_Hello, everybody. This is going to be a Fanfiction containing a series of one-shots Sherlock and Molly in different situations. Ratings vary from the stories, mainly M apart from the fluffy family stuff, lol. xx Suggestions, ideas and prompts are welcome, anything you've got, I can work with J Here's the first one, hope you like it… xx_

**_Secrets - Birthday Party_**

"So, about Lestrade's birthday-"

"I was under the impression I had already come to a decision about the event. It fails to interest me."

John Watson had spent the best part of his day, correction _week_, trying to convince his flatmate and unconventional best friend, Sherlock Holmes, to come to Detective Inspector Lestrade's birthday party. Sherlock had been adamant that he wasn't interested in something as 'dull, predictable, mundane a task as commemorating another year of life'. They were currently at St. Bart's working a case and, as usual, Sherlock had requested use of the microscope. John sighed and rubbed his temple in frustration. The doors swung open and Molly Hooper entered, flouncing excitedly to her desk. Sherlock was quick to notice this as was John.

"You look cheerful."

Molly beamed as she turned to him, her eyes flashing with the glee she was showing.

"I bought a new dress for the party and, I must say, it is beautiful. I can't-"

"What party? You're not going as well are you?"

Molly blinked at Sherlock's interruption. He was looking at her questioningly and Molly frowned at him.

"Of course I am. Come on, Sherlock, it should be fun."

It was now Sherlock's turn to frown at her, a questioning look in his eyes. John glanced towards the floor, secretly enjoying how Molly had relaxed around Sherlock after the fall. As the intense carried on, John felt awkward and didn't feel like staying when the insults were sure to start flying. He yawned and muttered about going to get a coffee. As soon as the doors swung shut, Sherlock dropped his frown and Molly smirked.

"Why did you say you would go to this party? The whole point of John going meant that 221B was empty, therefore allowing you to come over."

Molly raised her eyebrows and placed her hands on her hips. Sherlock secretly loved it when she did this, it showed the confidence she had hidden for all those years.

"Oh, and what if he came home early? What would we say then? Besides, I couldn't say no, Greg cornered me."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and swivelled around in his chair, leaning against the bench.

"Greg? Since when has it been _Greg_?"

"Well, that's his name so…always, I guess."

Sherlock tried and failed to keep the smirk off of his face and Molly was pleased she had impressed him. She moved closer to him but stopped immediately as John re-entered, carrying cups of coffee for everyone in his hands. He placed one next to Sherlock and handed the other to Molly.

"Oh, great news, John. Sherlock has agreed to come to the party."

John, who was in the middle of drinking his coffee, burnt the roof of his mouth as he swallowed the hot liquid sharply. His eyes watering, John turned to Sherlock and folded his arms. Sherlock shot John a false smile and sighed.

"Why not? It should be, as you put it, 'fun'."

John arrived at the party about an hour after it had started, thanks to a certain detective taking his wallet and forcing him to walk to Lestrade's. He hadn't even seen Sherlock since St. Bart's and assumed he was already here. He saw Lestrade deep in conversation with Anderson and a very bored looking Molly. He approached and realised they were talking about their work. Molly was pleased to see him and pulled him by the arm to stand next to her. Anderson looked up and frowned at the Doctor while Lestrade clapped him on the back.

"Glad you could make it, John. Where's you-know-who?"

"I won't be surprised if he doesn't come, Inspector. Holmes isn't exactly the _type _for social events."

"Interesting, Anderson, I was going to say the same about you."

Molly smirked at the sound of the deep, sensuous voice of Sherlock standing behind her. He moved to stand next to her and placed his hands behind his back, his eyes travelling between the small group of people he was amongst. John, sensing there was nothing else he wished to say, started a conversation with Lestrade and Anderson. Molly glanced towards Sherlock who was staring ahead still, shifting slightly on his feet. Suddenly, he took her hand gently and was steering her inside the house. No one in the group noticed as they were deep in conversation.

John had been laughing so hard, he was sure his sides were going to split. That, coupled with the amount he had had to drink meant that he needed to use the toilet. He couldn't believe how big the house was but, he mostly couldn't believe that Anderson was _actually tolerable _with alcohol. He approached the bathroom and turned the handle. It was locked so he tapped on the door.

"Occupied."

John frowned at the muffled sound from inside the room and walked away, heading for the one on the top floor instead. What John didn't know was that Sherlock Holmes had locked that door before setting his lips upon every inch of Molly Hooper's skin he could find. He had pushed the straps of her navy blue dress down her shoulder and was raking his teeth sharply across her exposed shoulders, causing her to moan.

"Mmmm, Sherlock."

"Shhh, unless you want to get caught."

She giggled as he traced his hand slowly up her leg, pulling it up as he went, his mouth working up her neck now. Molly's hands went to tangle in his hair and pull it softly, causing him to moan slightly. Their lips colliding passionately, Sherlock moved forwards and Molly collided with the sink behind her. Her leg was around his waist now and, soon enough, she was hoisted onto the edge of the sink, his mouth never leaving hers. She wrapped both of her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, and began tugging at his buttons. Sherlock pulled away and moved to whisper into her ear.

"We certainly are eager tonight, aren't we?"

"Just shut up and fuck me, will you?"

Sherlock smirked as buried his face in to her neck, sucking and nipping at the skin there, his hands moving to her zip on her dress. She wrenched his belt out of his trousers and inched forwards slightly. Sherlock had a feeling it was about to get very hot in this little room…

An hour later, Lestrade and John noticed that Sherlock was missing. And Molly for that matter, but they put it down to her being cold and having gone into the house to warm up. He appeared at the door not a moment later, grabbing a beer from the table as he moved over to them. John frowned in confusion and Lestrade simply gaped, wondering where on Earth he had been. Sherlock sipped his drink, hoping the liquid will cool him down.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock, where have you been?"

John took this moment to take a long sip of his own drink, glancing between the two men and hoping he wasn't about to be pulled into the conversation. Sherlock swallowed and licked his lips a little, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. He twirled the bottle through his fingers, and focused on the liquid inside sloshing around as he answered.

"I believe the appropriate phrase for this type of situation would be 'fucking the brains out of a certain Molly Hooper on your bathroom floor until both parties begged for mercy.' I must say it was…entirely satisfying. The sex, not your bathroom, that is."

Sherlock looked up to see John spluttering on his drink and Lestrade staring open-mouthed at him. Sherlock gulped down the rest of his drink to hide his growing smirk. John cleared his throat and, unsure of what else to do, placed his hands in his pockets. Lestrade suddenly, burst into laughter and nudged John who joined him. They had noticed Sherlock's smirk and had assumed he was joking.

"Ah, good one, mate, you had me going for a minute. I didn't think you knew _how _to joke."

Sherlock watched as John and Lestrade continued their raucous laughter and he noticed Molly from across the garden. She caught his eye and bit her lip, flicking her hair slightly. Sherlock smirked and shot her a quick wink, which was returned. This exchange went unnoticed by the men who were still laughing. Sherlock chuckled to himself. **Maybe parties are worth it, after all.**

_I hope you liked that one guys, just a bit of fun for ya. Remember, anything Sherlolly related you'd like me to write, I'll do my best. I'm looking forward to seeing what ideas you've got :D xx I'll be back soon with more Sherlolly goodness so stay tuned xx_


	2. Self-defence

_Hello again, everybody! Now, this one comes from a prompt by the lovely SammyKatz who suggested an idea that was too good to refuse J I really hope my lack of knowledge on self-defence and martial arts of any kind doesn't offend anyone, lol xx Thanks for the wonderful idea and I hope you enjoy it ;p xx_

**_Prompt - Self-defence_**

Sherlock sighed and crossed his arms as he leaned back into the sofa as he waited for Molly to return from the bathroom. He had, grumpily, agreed to join Molly, John and his new girlfriend – Jane? Louise? – to the cinema, mostly to stop their pestering. Molly appeared moments later, in her favourite jeans and comfortable t-shirt with a yellow cartoon character on which had Molly informed him was SpongeBob. She was reading a leaflet with great interest. Sherlock frowned as he noticed it was a leaflet on martial arts.

"You are not still going to those classes, are you? They will never get you anywhere."

Molly turned to him with a raised eyebrow and handed him the leaflet. Sherlock examined it while she explained her training.

"There's more to it than you think. A lot of it is focus and technique more than fighting. It's only used for when necessary. My tutor said I was the best in the group-"

"It probably is no achievement considering your obsession with this Bruce Lee person. Martial arts is about strength and dedication, and your lack of upper body strength and poor posture, due to the nature of your profession, cannot allow you to achieve in this field."

Molly rolled her eyes and took the leaflet, shaking her head slightly. Sherlock frowned as she placed the leaflet in her cabinet. Over the past few weeks, he had assumed her reasons for taking these classes were exercise. However, it had intensified and Molly had been signing up for more and Sherlock realised it was to gain independence and prove she can take care of herself. On some level, he was quite thankful for these lessons, even if he didn't show it, as it meant Molly had grown more aggressive and dominating in the bedroom. Sherlock would never tell anyone, not even Molly, that since she had been going to these classes, they have had the best sex ever and it just kept getting better each time. Molly was standing in front of him again and smiling, hands on her hips.

"You're just upset that I can kick your arse, now, aren't you?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes before grabbing her wrists and pulling her to him, kissing her neck. Molly giggled and caressed his hair pulling it slightly as he bit down.

"We've got to meet John…"

She breathed even though she was sure she sounded firm. Sherlock just nodded as he continued to kiss her, moving up her neck to meet her lips. Molly moaned and pressed herself tighter to him as his hands were pulling her top. She sighed and broke away for a moment.

"Oh, fuck it, we can be a few minutes late."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, as Molly started pulling him towards her bedroom. He chuckled as she practically pulled his arm of in her hurry.

"A few minutes? How are you going to attempt to 'kick my arse'?"

Molly's eyes twinkled as she shoved him inside and pushed him against her door. Sherlock was secretly impressed and not-so-secretly aroused by her actions.

"I don't know…but I'll have a damned good go…"

John checked his watch and then his phone before sighing impatiently. He glanced towards Carol who was sighing and glaring at him. John gave her a nervous smile before trying Molly's phone again. **For God's sake, pick up.**

"Shit! I forgot my phone, John's probably trying to call me. We're going to be late."

Molly and Sherlock were hurrying down the street on the way to the cinema when she stopped and patted her pockets. He stopped and leaned against the wall, smiling to himself. Molly looked up and he wasn't quick enough to wipe the smile off of his face. She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms.

"Did you hide my phone and initiate sex to make us late for the movie?"

Sherlock dropped his mouth open in mock offense. He stepped away from the wall, also crossing his arms.

"Of course not, I have no idea where your phone is and as for the _other _thing…" the corners of his mouth twitched into a cheeky smirk, "I didn't realise there was anything wrong with appreciating my girlfriend."

Molly laughed and pulled his arm to start walking again. They were going to meet John and see this movie no matter what. Sherlock sighed and huffed until Molly stopped again. He turned to her to find a hand gripping her tightly, a grubby man was standing behind her smiling hungrily. Sherlock noticed Molly had stiffened and her hands had become fists.

"Give us your money or your girl, which will it be, pretty boy?"

Sherlock scowled and lunged forwards, reaching out for the man. He was knocked off of his feet, however, by a second unseen man while a third laughed riotously. Molly threw the first one off of her and turned to face the other two.

"Back away now, if you know what's good for you…"

The men laughed once more. Sherlock felt his face and realised his nose might be broken; the blood and pain was intense. He looked up and noticed Molly was standing in some kind of defensive stance. Sherlock was reminded of the time Mycroft had attempted tennis under their father's instruction. He resisted the urge to laugh. The men flew towards her then, clearly attempting to get what they came for. Sherlock watched in amazement as Molly dodged, weaved, kicked and punched her at the men. One charged and Molly had simply tripped him and kicked him in the face, knocking him out. The second man, who had been cowering in the shadows, tried to run but Molly had wrestled him to the ground and effortlessly rendered him unconscious. The third man was nowhere to be seen until he jumped from behind a lamppost grabbing her roughly from behind. Before Sherlock could haul himself to his feet, Molly had thrown the man over her shoulder and kicked him too. She turned to Sherlock, who was staring open-mouthed at her. Molly smiled at the fact that she had impressed him but dropped it when she saw his face.

"Oh, Sherlock! Are you alright?"

Sherlock shook his head, not really listening, before frowning and walking over to her.

"Yes, yes, how did you do that?"

Molly tilted her head to the side and sighed, catching his eyes and smiling slightly.

"I _told _you, my self-defence classes."

"Who teaches them? Rambo?"

Molly would have laughed if she wasn't so shocked he knew who Rambo was. **Oh, he knows who Rambo is but Bruce Lee? The greatest martial artist the world has ever known? No, sir****_._**

**"No, **my cousin Eliot and my brother Quin run their own martial arts company. They've been professionals for nearly ten years. They give me a discount."

Sherlock put his hands in his pockets, smiling slightly. He was pleased that Molly had found something she was good at that brought her happiness. He looked down at the men and prayed he would never be on the receiving end. John rushed around the corner, suddenly, looking furious. He saw Sherlock and Molly and stomped over to them.

"There you are…what the hell happened to your face?"

John completely forgot his fury as he noticed Sherlock bruised and bloodied nose and Molly's disarrayed clothes and hair. His eyes drifted to the floor and he saw the three unconscious men. He sighed.

"I guess, I should call Lestrade then?"

Sherlock nodded, looking at the men. John dialled the number and gave the address before examining them. He stood up, a large grin on his face as he looked at Sherlock.

"Well done, excellent work, Molly."

"Thank you, Doctor Watson."

John laughed to himself as the look on Sherlock's face became too much…

_I hope you enjoyed that one 'cause I loved writing it. Thank you for reading and thank you SammyKatz for the excellent idea ;D xx See you soon, and if you've got anything…absolutely ANYTHING…Sherlolly you'd like to see, please let me know ;p xx_


	3. Windows

_Hello and welcome back everyone! I have received some very interesting and ingenious prompts. I am working through them and, as A Game of Flirting is nearly finished, I can work on them more :D Now, this one is a prompt from the always wonderful MorbidbyDefault. With this one, I wanted to do something a little…different, something unexpected and it got me thinking in the classic 'Sherlock-thinking-pose'. It was actually my brother who gave me the idea. He said 'how are you going to write a fan fiction about computers and keep it interesting?' I never even thought about THAT. xx Gotta love my nerd! Anyway, I hope you like this 'different' idea ;)… xx_

**_Prompt - Windows_**

221B Baker Street wasn't _exactly_ equipped with the most advanced technology in the world, it had what was necessary and that seemed to satisfy its occupants. John Watson owned a laptop which suited his work and blogging needs. Sherlock Holmes would hack into every now and again - no matter how many times John changed his password he still found a way into it - and e-mail various people, including the Inspector, his mother and, much to John's annoyance, Molly Hooper, his flatmate's 'pathologist'. John wouldn't mind as such, if Sherlock would delete these e-mails after he sent them. But noooo…he just has to leave them right there for John to casually read. He should have known what he was in for as he read Molly's username as RidingCropKitty79. **Seriously, what is wrong with them? I think I preferred it when she was more direct. There was something catchy about HornyHooper3. **He had returned from work one evening and found Sherlock sat at the laptop, his hands propped under his chin, frowning at the computer screen. It was an all too familiar sight for John, who wasn't expecting it back tonight. He was just thankful he had confiscated the webcam…

John sank into the sofa and switched the TV on, ignoring the irritated groan from Sherlock. Every now and again, John heard the distinctive sound of tapping, followed by a single click and an exaggerated sigh after the inbox alert sounded. John wished he would go over there already and leave him in peace. It seems he had gotten his wish, for Sherlock stood up and strode into his room, emerging a moment later, something that looked like a bottle tucked into his jacket. He stopped before the door, pulling on his coat, casting a quick glance towards John.

"I'm going out. No need to wait up…if things go to plan I will not be sleeping tonight. In fact-"

"Yeah, thanks Sherlock, jeez."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at his friend, who was currently experiencing a 'dry spell'. John hadn't exactly _told _him this and he smiled to himself as he left the flat. John looked over at his laptop before shaking his head and turning back to the TV. He couldn't stop himself as he walked over to the laptop, sitting down and seeing Sherlock hadn't even logged out. John frowned as he saw the first email was from Mycroft.

_UmbrellaBoy11: Firstly, I do not appreciate you changing my username at every opportunity. It is not considered mature, Sherlock. Secondly, you cannot ignore me forever, you know. It is no fault of mine of your lack of discretion. Personally, I do not care where you and your *ahem* 'friend' carry out your 'activities'. My only concern is for Molly. After all, it is only a matter of time before your newly discovered 'primal desires' have grown tiresome. Anyway, the information you informed me about the Tyler Harrison murder was invaluable. I thank you, brother._

John scowled at this message, clicking back furiously on the tab. **So, he solved the Tyler Harrison murder, did he? I wonder when he was going to tell me that. I've been elbow deep in old medical files for the past three nights. **Grumbling, John sighed as he opened a minimised browser. It was an online chat room…one connecting TheConsultingDetective and RidingCropKitty79. Every part was telling him this was a bad idea, but this was the only time he got to spy on his friend. Gritting his teeth, he scrolled to the top of the page. **Oh, why am I even doing this? **He breathed a sigh of relief when he read the first few lines. **Maybe they're behaving themselves. **

_RidingCropKitty79: Sherlock? Is that you?_

_TheConsultingDetective: Yes._

_RidingCropKitty79: Oh, how are you?_

_TheConsultingDetective: Fine._

_RidingCropKitty79: What are you doing?_

_TheConsultingDetective: Talking to you on John's laptop._

_RidingCropKitty79: Oh, for God's sake, Sherlock._

_TheConsultingDetective: What?_

_RidingCropKitty79: Well, are we just going to sit here having the world's most boring conversation or are you going to get over here and show me why my username is so?_

_TheConsultingDetective: That is tempting…_

_RidingCropKitty79: You want more temptation…_

_TheConsultingDetective: No. I do not think it necessary._

_RidingCropKitty79: Then what is it?_

_TheConsultingDetective: Mycroft._

_RidingCropKitty79: I'm not inviting him over._

_TheConsultingDetective: Jokes never have been your strongest asset._

_RidingCropKitty79: Look, I've had a long, hard day and I just want to relax. You gonna help or not?_

John hoped beyond hope they had moved past the 'long and hard' innuendo. He couldn't count the number of times he had come across this in one of their escapades…

_TheConsultingDetective: Of course. If you've had a long, hard day, I suggest a hot bath and some chocolate. _

_RidingCropKitty79: Now who's making jokes._

_TheConsultingDetective: I do not think it wise._

_RidingCropKitty79: I understand. Did I mention the heating system is broken again? Yeah, happened this morning. I'm just sitting here, hot, sticky and sweaty and stroking this riding crop I found. It's getting pretty hot over here…my work clothes are certainly not suitable. There's a problem, though. It cannot seem to get them off on my own. What should I do?_

Their conversation seemed to have ended here and John assumed this was where Sherlock had left to go 'assist' Molly. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. It was getting late and he had work in the morning. John was just getting ready to shut the laptop down when he noticed a flashing icon at the bottom of the screen. It was the signal for a video message. John, thinking it was from Mycroft or Mummy Holmes, he opened it without thought. Oh, what a mistake that was…

John had never been grateful the sound on his laptop didn't work until now, for he was sure it wouldn't have been pleasant. In this video, Sherlock's hands were on Molly's hips smoothing soft circles, whilst gripping tightly. He was resting his head against her chest as he kissed her neck and down her front. Molly's head was thrown back and her hands were gripping his hair tightly, pulling it hard as she began to move vigorously. John buried his face in his hands and tried to close the box. His eyes wandered to a red button in the top corner and he gaped in horror. The recording button. It was live. **This is all I need. This is all I fucking need. Mr. Sexually Repressed rubbing it in my face… **John gave up trying to close it and instead slammed the laptop closed and trudged to his bedroom.

It was in that moment; John decided he really hated technology.

_I really hope you liked that one. Thank you so much to MorbidbyDefault for the prompt and thank you to you guys for reading this…probably awful story, lol! xx Stay tuned and I'll be back soon xx_


	4. Lights

_Hellooo, and welcome back. Ok, its been a LONG time and I'm sorry about that. Here we have a prompt from Zora Arian who simply suggested 'lights'. xx Thank you for reading and I hope you like it ;) xx_

**_Prompt - Lights_**

Molly Hooper was working yet another late night at Bart's. Usually, this wouldn't bother her, except the lights had gone out and there was no one around to fix them. Everybody had either gone home or was too busy to help out and Molly wasn't exactly the tallest of Bart's staff. Autopsies were ruled out until they were fixed so she settled for working at her desk under the light of her phone. Occasionally, a noise would sound and cause Molly to jump and scan the morgue with the dim light from her phone. Each time she found nothing and cursed her own stupidity. Well, that is until…

"Why are you sitting in the dark?"

Molly had nearly fainted at the sound of Sherlock Holmes' voice right next to her ear. It was nearly one in the morning what is he doing here that late? After she had caught her breath, Molly gritted her teeth in annoyance.

"I'm not doing it on purpose. The bulb's gone or something…I was-"

"Hoping someone would come along and fix it."

Molly nodded even though Sherlock couldn't see her. She heard him moving from behind her to the middle of the room. She waited for a moment, wondering what he was doing. A moment later, Sherlock's deep and impatient sounding voice was causing her to jump once more.

"Come here, then…"

Molly tutted as she got to her feet. She cautiously moved over to where she thought he was standing. She had been too accurate, however, as she collided right into his chest. Molly muttered an apology but Sherlock didn't say anything…he didn't even move away. Instead he placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and swiftly pushed her lab coat off. Molly was about to question him but all thoughts were removed from her head as Sherlock's hands were softly tracing the lines of her throat and neck. Molly heard him suck in a breath sharply as she sighed and hummed softly.

"What are you doing?"

The lights flickered on and Molly snapped her head up sharply from the desk to see Sherlock by the door, his arms behind his back and looking very irritated. Molly shook her head and felt her cheeks burning. Sherlock rolled his eyes at her foolishness and moved over to a table. He walked around it silently for a moment, examining the body placed upon it before shaking his head and taking out his phone. Molly was rendered speechless as she watched him pace the room, hastily tapping on his phone. After Sherlock sent the message, he looked up and smiled at her before turning around the door and walking through the doors. Molly groaned and sunk her head back onto her arms, wishing she could just disappear.

John Watson was feeling…anxious. Anxious because he was currently sitting in the same flat as a man suffering from extreme boredom. Under normal circumstances, this would be alright but Sherlock didn't exactly handle boredom very well. The wall of their flat was a perfect example of that fact. Even now, Sherlock was furiously pacing up and down the flat, kicking different objects that got in his way. John gave up trying to update his blog whilst avoiding Sherlock's wrath and instead sighed.

"Look, why don't you just take whatever Lestrade's got? It's better than nothing…"

Sherlock stopped, folding his arms and frowning at John.

"John, please do not confuse boredom with…something else…"

Sherlock had resumed pacing and John felt confused. **What the hell does he mean this time? **Before John could ask him, however, Sherlock's phone flashed and, with a smirk, he rushed out of the door without even checking his message. John shook his head vigorously and released a deep sigh before turning back to his laptop screen. **Now…what was I writing?**

Molly had everything all ready. She had sent the text but had received no reply, which meant he was on his way. She hoped, at least. Molly was unsure what caused Sherlock's irritation with her the previous night, but she hoped it was more to do with the case than her sleeping on the job. She shook her head as she waited, in the darkness for Sherlock. Molly heard her door open and her heart began to hammer with anticipation. Sherlock chuckled as he shut the door and remained where he stood.

"I do hope you are not planning a game of 'hide and seek'. I am not in the most patient of moods. I had hoped to settle this at the morgue last night but…"

He trailed off and Molly could hear his smirk. She grinned broadly and reclined further on the sofa, letting out a sigh of relief. **At least he's not mad at me.** Molly was determined not to speak but it was growing hard as Sherlock began to hum softly as he stepped teasingly away from her. He knew where she was, of course, but he was keen on playing his own game. He licked his lips and placed his hands behind his back and smiled when he heard Molly's soft voice from the sofa. It may have _sounded _soft, but there was no mistaking the lust underneath.

"I was under the impression you didn't like games."

Releasing a short sharp breath, Sherlock stopped and moved to stand just in front of the sofa. Molly couldn't see him, but she could hear and smell him close to her. Sherlock narrowed his eyes and managed to make out her outline, leaning backwards across the sofa. He smirked to himself, his own voice betraying his passion for her.

"It…depends on the game."

Molly took his hand and pulled him down on top of her. Sherlock let out a gasp of surprise as he felt his hands collide with skin…everywhere underneath him was skin. He drew the conclusion that Molly was only wearing her underwear…and she was certainly not keen of keeping it that way, for either of them.

"Bedroom? Or right here?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he stood up, pulling her to her feet with him. He lifted her into his arms and carried her bridal-style to her bedroom. Well, he crashed into a few things along the way due to the darkness but eventually managed to navigate his way and deposit Molly onto the bed. This time, he switched the lights on and carefully absorbed the sights around him. Molly's bedroom wasn't very tidy, but his interests were drawn to the pathologist sprawled on the bed and looking up at him through lust-darkened eyes. Sherlock's voice was very low when he spoke again.

"Now we have finished with the hiding…I'd like to commence with the seeking, if it is all the same to you?"

Molly answered by pulling down on top of her for the second time. Their lips met in a ferocious, fiery and passionate kiss, Sherlock's hands roaming all over her body and Molly ripping his shirt buttons clean off, causing Sherlock to groan in annoyance. This soon disappeared as Molly was soon working on his trousers, pulling his belt and tugging them down. Their clothes were soon piled in a heap on the floor and Molly rolled them over so Sherlock was now on his back. Molly smiled deviously as she bent to whisper in his ear.

"Do you know what I was dreaming about when you came to the morgue, last night?"

Sherlock's thought process became slower than normal, as Molly was pressing her lips to his chest and occasionally grazing her teeth across as well. Sherlock swallowed, one hand resting firmly on her back, tracing up and down her spine.

"I have a reasonably good idea…"

Molly bit her lip as she smiled, her hands gripping his hair tightly as she kissed him hard again. A few moments, a shift of the hips, a joint movement of bodies, a chorus of moans and sighs echoing in the room, a set of giggles as they found their rhythm, a mess of sweaty limbs and tangled sheets, a delicate movement of hands gliding across skin, a desired need to be as close as possible, a vice-like grip and scraping of nails, a collection of kisses and nips to skin, a joint wail as they reached their high, a collapse onto the pillows, a large amount of heavy breathing, a female murmur of 'thank you, dear', followed by a small kiss to the cheek, a male chuckle and a breath of 'my pleasure, entirely…gorgeous…', a silence to lull them to sleep, a lifetime in each other's arms…

_Hmmm, I'm not sure about the end…but not too bad, I hope, lol. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. xx Sorry again for the wait on this one, prompts still happily accepted…shouldn't be TOO long a wait for the next one :) Stay tuned (feel free to look at my other stuff if you're interested, thanks ) ;p_ _xx_


	5. Issues

_Hello again, Sherlolly lovers! I am so sorry it's been a while…but here we are with another dose of Sherlolly suga ;) Here we have a prompt from Kate who suggested the lyrics from The Saturdays' Issues. xx So without further ado, here's chapter 5… xx_

_**Prompt - Issues**_

Molly Hooper sighed as she glanced into the mirror, ruffling her loose hair. **I'm losing my mind.** The reason Molly felt this way was because of one man: Sherlock Holmes. He had, once again, waltzed into her morgue looking perfect in every way possible and demanded something from her. Every day he did this and every day she was conflicted…she wanted to say no but how can she refuse him? She shook her head and entered the morgue, straightening her lab coat as she did, immediately melting once more when he shot her a genuine smile; John was in the cafeteria, clearly. She had promised herself she wasn't going to take in anymore. Molly didn't want him to stop coming in, she couldn't refuse him which is why she carried on saying 'yes' instead of listening to her mind.

Molly shook her head vigorously watching how his curly hair fell over his face and his deep blue eyes peered into the microscope. **Damn, I wish I could resist you. **As she watched him work, his fingers delicately turning the sides, Molly was torn between the conflicting feelings of wanting to slap him and wanting to grab and kiss him.

Sherlock kept her hanging on, kept her hoping for more but she knew it was useless. Then he was gone…she helped him fake his death and he disappeared to clear his name. Molly's love was emptied and wasted just like that. He had stayed for a little while, driving her mad with desire and rage…but all too soon he had gone. It would be one year until she would see him again and Molly's feelings had deteriorated or faded in anyway whatsoever. She had built a wall around her heart, alright, but the second he returned to the land of the living and met her brown eyes with his blue, the wall crumbled around her. They couldn't go on like this, neither of them. It was clear to both of them how much they had missed each other, how sorry he was for leaving her and how much Molly had missed him.

**Why fight it if we can't hide it? **Molly was asking herself this question over and over as she stood outside 221B Baker Street, debating whether or not to open the door. She smiled and shook her head. **I like how things are…I don't want to ruin it. I've missed you, Sherlock Holmes and I want to show how much I am yours…but do you want my love. **There it was again, the confusion she had…the illusion of love that she thought was in the flat and still conflicted over which way to go about it. **Maybe I should just turn around and go home. **Molly's thoughts were interrupted by the door to the flat opening and a tall figure stood with his arms folded, a smug look on his face. Molly rolled her eyes, tears falling down her happy face. **Yes. I really don't know whether to slap you or kiss you.**

_Ok, I hope you liked that…I had trouble with this one because I am not really familiar with that song :/ Sorry if it was too one-sided but it felt to me like Molly's point of view :) I hope it wasn't too terrible ;) xx Thank you so much, the next one shouldn't take as long :D Please let me know what you thought and I'll be back with more Sherlolly goodness ;p Stay tuned, back soon xx_


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